In Time Gone By
by WinterSky101
Summary: Sam always knew that he and Sarah would never go anywhere. But still, the instruction that Dean had given him, though it had been in play, had stayed in Sam's mind. "Marry that girl." And a small part of him had hoped to. Post-8.22 (Clip Show). Sam/Sarah.


**Okay, after Sarah _died_ last episode, how can I _not_ write a fic about her and Sam? We need the extra bit of pain to keep the fandom going. The title comes from a line of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables, and the fic also includes two stanzas from the same song.**

**Oh, and I took a creative liberty with Sarah's middle name, as it was never mentioned in the show.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. **

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_I dreamed a dream in time gone by_

_When hope was high and life worth living_

_I dreamed that love would never die_

_I dreamed that God would be forgiving_

"Hey, sweetie," a voice says behind Sam. He smiles as he feels arms wrap around his waist. "Are you too busy for me?"

"I'm never too busy for you," Sam replies, turning around from where he's standing, looking at the collection of books in the bunker. Now the arms around his waist have turned into an embrace that he returns. "Hi, Sarah. I didn't realize you were back yet."

"I just got back. I had to see about that art piece," Sarah sighs. "I don't like it, but my dad does, so it looks like we're getting it."

"That sucks," Sam replies sympathetically. "But hey, at least you didn't have to spend all day researching what sort of thing that goes bump in the night is responsible for disemboweling three kids."

"Yeah, I think you got the worse end of the deal," Sarah replies. Sam laughs. "You want some help?"

"I think I found what it is," Sam replies. "I just need Dean to reply to my text asking about a couple of details. But for now, I'm free to do whatever you want to do."

"Whatever I want to do?" Sarah replies, a devilish glint in her eyes. Sam grins as she pulls him over to the couch. "Absolutely anything?"

"Absolutely anything," Sam confirms. Sarah pushes him down so he's sitting on the couch, straddles his lap, and kisses him forcefully. Sam kisses her back, _very_ glad that Dean's two states away on a hunt with Cas.

Sarah isn't allowing any other thoughts, though, and she threads her fingers through Sam's hair and pulls gently to get his attention. "If we can do anything I want, I want you to kiss me so hard I forget my own name."

Sam laughs. "I think I can do that," he replies. He kisses Sarah _exactly_ the way he knows she likes to be kissed, slipping in _just_ enough tongue to make her enjoy it without being too much, and slipping his hands under her shirt and up her back to one of her most sensitive parts: right between her shoulder blades. As usual, she shivers in pleasure as his fingers slide up and down on her back. "Have you forgotten your name yet?" he murmurs in her ear.

"What?" she gasps back, breathless. Sam smiles and presses a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. She lets out a tiny moan as his lips go lower and lower, drifting down to her collarbone. She reaches to unbutton her blouse, but Sam stops her.

"Dean would never forgive us if we had sex on the couch," he whispers. Sarah just moans in response. Sam pulls away slightly. That gets her attention.

"What are you doing that for?" she demands, shifting in the perfect way to brush tantalizingly against his growing boner.

"You couldn't understand a thing I said," Sam replies in an amused voice. Sarah pouts.

"So?" she asks. Sam nips at her lower lip.

"I think kissing me might be too much for you to handle," he says teasingly. Sarah arches an eyebrow.

"You think you're too much for me? I'll show you too much." Then her mouth is firmly against Sam's, and her hands are drifting around under his shirt, and she's shifting in a way that she _has_ to know is incredibly distracting.

A moment later, Sam realizes Sarah is talking to him. "What?" he asks in a dazed voice. A beautiful, tinkling laugh is his response.

"I think I'm too much for you," Sarah teases, and Sam belatedly realizes that this has to be payback for what he said.

"Okay, we're both incredible. How's that?" Sam compromises. Sarah laughs again.

"Sounds good to me." She leans against Sam's chest. "I love you," she whispers, her head right over his heart.

"I love you too," Sam replies. They sit in silence for a moment, then Sam breaks it.

"Do you know what Dean said to me when we first met you?" he asks. Sarah shakes her head, shifting to sit next to Sam instead of on top of him.

"What did he say?" she asks. Sam smiles at the memory.

"He said, 'Sam, marry that girl.'" Sarah laughs. "And I intend to." Sam gets off the couch and drops to one knee. Sarah's mouth drops open.

"Sarah Blake," Sam says seriously. "You are, quite possibly, the best thing that has ever happened to me. You've always been there for me when no one else has been, and you've stopped me from doing some seriously stupid things. You deal with all of my problems, and you help me with Dean's as well. You've been a part of this family for years now. You've always been by my side in the past, and now I'm asking if you will be in the future." Sam pulls a box out of his pocket and opens it to reveal a ring. It's his mother's ring. Dean normally wears it, but when Sam told his brother he wanted to propose to Sarah, Dean pulled the ring off his finger and insisted that Sam give it to Sarah. Sarah obviously recognizes the ring and her breath catches.

"Sarah Elizabeth Blake," Sam says, his eyes on Sarah's, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes," Sarah whispers breathlessly. Sam smiles widely, tears of joy welling up in his eyes, as he slides the ring onto Sarah's finger. She's crying too, and she still looks like she's trying to catch her breath. Then suddenly, her face turns panicked and Sam's not quite sure what's wrong until she starts grabbing at her throat and that's when Sam realizes _she can't breathe_. He starts panicking too at that point, and this seems to be a spell and he tears apart the couch searching for a hex bag while Sarah struggles for air. But Sam can't find the bag and the tears of joy have changed to tears of sorrow and fear and they're pouring down his face.

"Sarah!" he begs. "Sarah, don't leave me. What will I do without you? Sarah, _please_!"

But Sam's pleas have no effect and Sarah's face has gone purple and she's not struggling any more. It's too late. She's gone.

"No," Sam whispers. "No! Sarah, please!" Sarah doesn't respond, will never respond again, and-

"Sarah!" Sam tries to scream as he jerks bolt upright in the bed. The name is lost in a vicious coughing fit. But Sam doesn't care, because for a moment he still thinks that he can save Sarah, _he can save Sarah_, he just has to work fast enough.

And then he realizes that it was just a dream. He can't save Sarah after all. He's already lost that chance.

Sam always knew that he and Sarah would never go anywhere. He had liked her, but it had been a bad time for both of them. Sam still hasn't gotten over Jessica's death, and Sarah had just lost her mother. But still, the instruction that Dean had given him, though it had been in play, had stayed in Sam's mind. _Marry that girl_. And a small part of him had hoped to.

But, eight years later, when he saw Sarah again, she was married and had a daughter. And now she's dead. And Sam has lost whatever sliver of a chance he ever had.

Sam knows he has to finish the trials and close the gates of Hell, but he's scared he's too tired to do it.

_And still I dream he'll come to me_

_And we will live the years together_

_But there are dreams that cannot be_

_And there are storms we cannot weather_

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**I'm a monster, I know. As if it weren't painful enough. I hope you don't hate me _too_ much. Until next time!**


End file.
